


Saw this and thought of you.

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Affection, Best Friends, Birthday, Birthday Presents, Fluff, Getting Together, Gift Giving, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 01:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dele gives Eric birthday gifts.In 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019...[Reposting the entire fic because I accidentally added a co-creator to the other one, which cannot be undone].





	1. January 2016

'You didn't need to get me anything though.'

 

'I just saw it and I thought of you.' Dele waves his arms around, looking at the ground instead of at Eric.

 

Eric takes the glossy green bag from his outstretched hands and smiles at him, though it goes unnoticed.

 

He finds the whole thing sweet. Dele was the first teammate to wish him 'happy birthday' this morning, and then he waited until everyone left after training to give him his gift. The fact that he saw something and thought of Eric makes him feel warm in his chest. This team is really starting to feel like his family.

 

The present is quite heavy, and Eric grabs the horribly wrapped package before he sets the bag down between his legs. 'Thank you for taking the time to wrap it, Delboy,' he says, genuinely.

 

Dele looks up at that, a shy smile on his face.

 

Eric makes a show of carefully unwrapping the present, so as not to damage any of the silver-and-blue paper, and is faced with a gorgeous picture book about minimalist design.

 

'Thank you so much. It's perfect.' Eric can't help but think that Dele nailed it. He can't wait to dive into the book. He's been looking for ideas to decorate his flat lately, and this is a good place to start.

 

'You like it?' Dele smiles at him again.

 

'Of course. It's perfect. When were you at a bookstore though?' he raises his eyebrow at Dele, knowing he doesn't like books at all.

 

'I know you like this stuff', Dele says absently, waving his arms around once again.

 

'Oh. I thought you just saw it around by chance and thought of me, or something.' The warm feeling settles in his chest as he smiles his biggest smile at Dele.

 

'I mean. I was looking for something so, you know. I found this. You like it, yeah?'

 

Eric thinks about Dele's constant need for reassurance. He thinks about how he's worrying his lip between his teeth and how he's looking at the ground again. He thinks about how he waited for everyone to leave, so they wouldn't feel bad about not getting Eric something, to give him his present. He thinks about how thoughtful and sweet and nice a gesture it was.

 

'Of course, Del. Couldn't have got me anything better.'

 


	2. January 2017

'Don't forget to wait for me, after. Got your present in my car.'

 

Dele smiles at him, an open, warm smile that transforms his face. He looks beautiful. Eric shakes his head to clear it, and sets his wine glass on the table.

 

His birthday dinner is winding down, everyone getting ready to leave. Eric sighs, contented, then laughs because of course Dele didn't bring his present here. Of course. He has to make it special.

 

Eric loves him for it.

 

He takes another sip of wine and smiles back at Dele, wondering if he'd like to come to his place after, for some Fifa or a film.

 

*

 

Dele's managed to park his car right next to Eric's, which Eric finds funny, because he's sure the space was occupied by someone else when he arrived.

 

'What you snorting for?' Dele asks, an indignant look on his face.

 

'Nothing, Delboy – nothing!'

 

Dele shakes his head in response, opens the boot of his car. The bag he hands Eric is not big or impressive, just a plain black bag really, but the smug smile on his face tells Eric he's about to be very, very impressed.

 

Eric takes out the package, and feels some butterflies stroll leisurely around his stomach when he notices Dele's wrapped it – again. And it's just as horrible as last year. 'Thank you, Delboy,' he says, placing a hand on Dele's shoulder.

 

'Go on then.'

 

Eric unwraps it slowly, mostly because he feels slightly dizzy, then almost drops it when he realizes what it is.

 

It's a Rolex.

 

Dele bought him a fucking Rolex.

 

Eric looks at him horrified, but Dele's face does that frowny thing that's not good, never good, so Eric gets himself in check and gapes instead.

 

He just – 'Del!'

 

'Won't you open it?' Dele asks, voice shaky and uncertain. How can he not realize how important this present is?

 

'Um.'

 

Eric hands Dele the wrapping paper – blue and sparkly this time – then the bag, then finally opens the box.

 

The watch is exactly his type – simple and sturdy, as minimalist as a Rolex can be. It looks to be made of stainless steel, and it also looks fucking expensive as fuck.

 

They make a lot of money, but.

 

Eric gapes at the watch, then gapes at Dele.

 

'Thought you didn't want to give me my present in front of everyone cause it was a prank, or something,' he mumbles.

 

'You always think that. Why do you always think that?'

 

Eric gapes at the watch some more, feels tears well up in his eyes. What did he do to deserve such a gift? To deserve Dele?

 

'Del. This is just – it's so expensive!'

 

Dele huffs at that. 'So? I saw it and I thought of you,' he says with an air of confidence. Then, voice small, 'don't you like it?'

 

'It's perfect, Del. Really perfect. Thank you,' he smiles at him.

 

'Topped last year's then?'

 

'Definitely,' Eric says, smiling, as he takes off his own watch to put the Rolex on. 'Wait – are we doing that? Trying to top last year's?' It will be easy to top the headphone set he got for Dele last year, surely. But how will he top a fucking Rolex?

 

'Don't worry about it,' Dele replies. 'Alright then -'

 

'Wanna come to mine? For some Fifa?' Eric cuts him off.

 

'You – you want that?'

 

'Course, Del,' Eric rolls his eyes. They play Fifa together like, four times a week.

 

'Sure. See you there,' he says, and moves towards the driver's seat of his car.

 

But Eric doesn't feel so good. 'Um, Del, could you drive us?'

 

Dele cackles at that. 'Did you get drunk, Diet?' He turns around and makes a show of opening the car door for Eric, who steps in feeling, impossibly, dizzier than before. 'Wait – did you want me for a driver? Is that why you wanna play Fifa with me on your birthday? Dier. Fucking Dier. Answer me!'

 

Eric can't. He's laughing too hard.

 

 

 


	3. January 2018

'No no no, I need to be there when they deliver your present,' Dele insists.

 

It's the eve of his 24th birthday, and Dele's acting like an overexcited puppy, so Eric has no choice but to let him come over to his flat, even though he's exhausted and would rather sleep for five hours straight.

 

Now that he's thinking about it, he could do just that and let Del deal with the delivery men. Wouldn't be the first time.

 

'I'm seriously scared though. What did you get me that's so big?' Eric asks as he unlocks his car for Dele to get into. He responded to last year's Rolex with three ridiculously expensive necklaces Dele won't take off, but if Dele's determined to best last year's gift every single time, by the time they retire football they'll have to start gifting each other cars or, god forbid, houses!

 

'You'll see', Dele says, eyes shining, and Eric can't decide if that's a very, very good sign, or a very, very bad one.

 

*

 

They make it home an hour later, after a stop to get ice cream ( - 'It's the middle of winter, Del' - 'Live a little, grandpa'), and a stop to 'pet that lovely dog', and a stop to take pictures with two little boys that spotted them at a traffic light and wouldn't stop waving.

 

Dele plops down on the sofa, feet on the coffee table like he _knows_ drives Eric mad, then turns the tv on. 'Go to sleep if you want to, I'll get the delivery for you,' he tells Eric.

 

Eric considers it for a second, but Dele looks happy and comfortable on his sofa, and spending the evening with him suddenly seems more appealing than his bed.

 

'What are you smiling like a loon for, Diet?'

 

'Shut up,' Eric tells him, then goes to make them tea.

 

*

 

The present arrives two hours later, and it's really quite big. Eric is forced to look on from the hallway, because Dele insisted on doing everything himself. He can see his friend give the two men a hefty tip for their troubles, and his heart swells in his chest.

 

Dele carries the package to the living room, half dragging it on the floor, and eyes Eric expectantly.

 

'Go on then!'

 

Eric joins him and looks down at the package. It looks like something that could be from IKEA, but probably isn't. It's a flat, rectangular shape, with 'fragile' and 'valuable' written all over it.

 

'Should I bring scissors?'

 

'Are you crazy?!'

 

'Okay, okay, no scissors! Should I be gentle with it?' he humors Dele.

 

'Very gentle.' Dele grins at him, and Eric starts digging into it. The tape is easy to get off, and the present is wrapped in layers of Styrofoam. Dele empties the coffee table and urges Eric to place it on there, the present covering the whole surface.

 

Eric starts thinking it might be an art print or framed photograph, and carefully removes the Styrofoam from it.

 

He gets a look at it. He jumps back in absolute shock. His legs get tangled on an armchair, and he ends up sprawled on the floor.

 

'DELE!'

 

Dele helps him up, laughing his ass off, and all Eric can do is latch on to him, giving him what must be the most stifling hug of his life.

 

'Calm down, mate,' Dele pats his back, but Eric can feel the smile in his voice.

 

There are tears in his eyes. 'Thank you so much,' he whispers.

 

'I just saw it and -'

 

'...you thought of me?' Eric finishes his sentence, and draws back. This expression has become their thing, for some reason.

 

Dele's not smiling anymore, and the moment feels heavy, fragile. Eric steps out of his personal space and looks at the painting again.

 

It's by Erik Lindman, one of his favorite artists. He dragged Dele to his exhibition months ago, and Dele spent the entire time so quiet that by the end Eric thought he was completely uninterested.

 

But Eric wasn't – Eric loved every minute of it and kept talking, about art, about minimalism, about design, and Dele clearly listened, because he picked the painting Eric loved the most. The one he said would go amazingly in his dining area.

 

'So when they told me it had been sold, they meant to you?'

 

Dele chuckles at that. 'I went back and bought it after I dropped you off.'

 

Eric stares at his beautiful painting, butterflies in his stomach, unable to believe he has a best friend like this. The best friend in the world.

 

'You're the best friend in the world, Del. Thank you.'

 

He latches on to him again, and they stay like this for what feels like ages. He wraps his arms around Dele tightly, and Dele responds in kind, and he caresses Dele's back, and Dele reciprocates, and then, fuck it, Eric places a kiss on Dele's neck, and then Dele kisses Eric's jaw, and his cheek, and his brow, and Eric antagonizes him, doesn't want to be left behind in this game, and then Dele pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, and Eric pushes him towards the sofa, and then it's not a game anymore.

 

Don't tell anyone, but it's never been a game.

 

 


	4. January 2019

'Now for your last one,' Dele says and gets up.

 

'There's another one?' Eric is sitting cross legged on the floor, surrounded by presents and smiling from ear to ear.

 

His fear that by the time they retired football he and Dele would be gifting each other cars and houses certainly doesn't seem unfounded right now. They have only been in a relationship for a year, but by Eric's estimations Dele's spent about twenty thousand pounds on his presents. Probably more.

 

Dele retrieves a package that was apparently hidden behind the back of the sofa and hands it to Eric, a mischievous smile on his face.

 

Eric holds it in his hands and tries to guess what it could be, as Dele settles down across from him. The package is quite light. It's a square shape, about the size of his palm, and Eric decides it's probably some sort of gadget, or something cheeky, like a Rubik's Cube. He wonders why Dele kept it for last and hid it from the rest, but truth be told he's learned not to question him too much.

 

He tears at the red paper with pink hearts (the rest of the presents were wrapped in golden paper with black stars), and is faced with a white box saying Oura on it. The name is vaguely familiar, he's sure he's seen it before, but he can't recall where. On the side of the box there's a circle with a small line above it, which doesn't help much either.

 

Eric glances at Dele, who's looking at him expectantly and, maybe, a bit nervously?

 

'What do you think?' he asks, voice soft.

 

Eric smiles at him. He has the nagging suspicion something's happening that he's not quite understanding right now. 'What is it?'

 

'Open it, why don't you?'

 

'Alright,' Eric says, and he slides the lid off. On top of the box is sitting a...ring. It's a ring. No other way to describe it.

 

Eric's heart is threatening to beat its way out of his chest. His throat is dry and there's a tingling sensation in his legs, which, in all honesty, might be because he's been sitting on his ass for the past forty fives minutes.

 

Anyway.

 

Ring.

 

Oura? What sort of brand is this? And why do they have their engagement rings in packages that make them look like gadgets?

 

He looks at Dele, who's not looking at him, fixated instead on his left sock. Is Dele proposing? Why is being so damn awkward about it?

 

'Will you -' his voice cracks - 'will you put it on me, Del?'

 

Dele's head shoots up, his face open and earnest with what looks like pure happiness, and something in Eric unravels – he thinks his smile is about to split his face in half, and if he were to speak he'd start crying. Dele's eyes look misty.

 

'Do you know what it is?' Dele asks, and of course – well, Eric doesn't know exactly what it represents, but it's – it's a ring, alright.

 

He opens his mouth to say that, when Dele says 'wait here' and gets out of the room again.

 

Eric stares at the black ring in front of him, his heart in his mouth. Part of him thinks it might be too soon. It takes two seconds for him to realize he's being a scared idiot. _Of course_ this is where they'd end up eventually. Dele's the love of his life. Another part is pissed off that Dele beat him to it. Yet another part marvels at how weird he's made this proposal – how quirky, how roundabout, how Dele-like.

 

All of him knows he's going to say yes.

 

Dele comes back with something in his hands – something he hides behind him as he settles down on the floor again. 'You like this ring, right?' he motions towards the Oura box with his head.

 

The question feels quite weird considering Eric asked Dele to put it on him, but then Eric's still confused about what's going on.

 

'I – I do,' he replies. His voice is quite rough, and he clears his throat several times, just for something to do.

 

'It's an activity tracker,' Dele says, smiling at him.

 

Something ugly settles in the pit of Eric's stomach. He looks down at the black ring in its white box and feels an urge to throw it away, but his rational self tells him it's fine – it was too soon anyway. He tries and fails to still his trembling hand. Eventually he sets the box on his knee.

 

'It's – it's very nice, Del, thank you.' His voice cracks several times and he feels tears well up in his eyes. He lowers his head and tries to smile at this stupid activity tracker, so Dele will know how truly grateful he is for the gift – even though it's not what he thought it was. Even though it's not what he wanted it to be.

 

Damn his stupid heart for being too in love.

 

Dele places his fingers on Eric's chin, moves his head up so he's forced to look into his eyes, and his smile feels so out of place in this scene – _it is too soon_ , Eric repeats like a mantra in his head, _too soon, it's too soon, too soon, too soon, too difficult, too soon..._

 

'Know why I got it?' Dele asks as he reaches behind his back.

 

Eric shakes his head, and Dele holds his hand up on Eric's eye level.

 

'It's so you could wear it instead of this,' he says, and Eric focuses on the hand before him – it's not just a hand, not just an empty palm, because there's a ring box on it. There's a red ring box on Dele's palm, and Eric laughs, rubs his eyes with his own palms, because no, this is too much, what if the box has something else in it and Eric has mistaken Dele's intentions for the second time in one night, what if the box has cuff-links in it, or a pin, or – or whatever -

 

'Babe.'

 

'Babe, are you alright?' Dele asks, all concern, and _right._

 

This is not fair to him. Dele's been _amazing_ , he's booked them a nice restaurant, and he's showered Eric in gifts and and he's wrapped all of them himself, and he's put Eric's favorite music on and he's put Eric's favorite burgundy sweater on and he's probably not proposing to him, because it's too soon. It's too soon and it's fine.

 

The box has cuff-links in it. Surely it does.

 

Eric opens his eyes.

 

The box does not, in fact, have cuff-links in it.

 

Eric's mouth hangs open.

 

He looks at the ring, then at Dele. Then at the Oura box on his knee. Then back at Dele. Then back at the ring.

 

Dele clears his throat.

 

'I – I thought you liked the tracker, as like, an idea, so there's also this,' he motions at the ring with a flourish. He clears his throat again. 'Hope you like it.'

 

Eric takes another look at the ring in front of him, as Dele holds his hand perfectly still. The ring in there looks almost identical to the Oura ring sitting in its box on his knee.

 

Eric wants to take them both out and compare, but he's not sure if he's allowed – he's not really sure what to do.

 

Dele's still not asked him anything, besides if he _likes_ the bloody things, and yes, of course he does, now is Dele going to propose or what?!

 

Is he gonna dangle _two_ rings in front of Eric's eyes and then...what?

 

Just sit there?

 

'Del, what does it mean?'

 

Dele lowers his arm, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 'Um, what do you want it to mean?' He's not looking at Eric, _again._ Eric follows his gaze, which has now fallen on his right sock. His right sock that's got a bloody hole on it.

 

For fucks sake!

 

'Will you marry me, Bamidele?'

 

Dele's head shoots up, eyes like saucepans.

 

'Are you asking?'

 

'Yes, I'm asking.'

 

'I was supposed to do that, though.'

 

'Well, you weren't bloody doing it!'

 

'Will you please get up?'

 

'What?!'

 

'Like, get up. So I can ask. Properly.'

 

Eric feels like laughing, and also crying, and also doing the Macarena, and also getting up on the roof and shouting – well, you know, the usual clichés.

 

People in love are probably the most unoriginal in the world. Fuck if he gives a damn.

 

He sets the Oura box on the floor, hands shaking, and gets up, knees shaking. He absently wonders what ailments his insurance covers him for.

 

Dele doesn't have to go far, but he still manages to slam his knee too hard on the floor, and he loses his balance for a couple of seconds, and Eric tries very hard not to burst out laughing because this is the happiest moment of his life and he'd rather not end up single before it's even concluded, and at last Dele manages to assume the pose of a man who's proposing marriage.

 

Minus the talking part.

 

Eric lets this carry on for a good forty three seconds, until he's forced to raise his eyebrow in subtle admonishment.

 

Dele receives the message.

 

'Um.'

 

'Eric Dier.'

 

'I mean. Eric Jeremy Edgar Diet.'

 

'Dier!' I meant Dier.'

 

'I've – I've wanted to marry you for a while now. I mean. Years, actually. It's been years, Eric. Didn't think I'd ever get this close, to be honest, but. Here we are.'

 

'You love me.'

 

'Which is surreal, if you ask me, but you do.'

 

'And I love you, so.'

 

'I mean, my knee is starting to hurt and you know – bad for business.'

 

'Um. I can't imagine my life without you. I don't ever _want_ to be without you. So. Will you marry me?'

 

Eric sinks back down on the floor and gives Dele the fiercest kiss of his life. He thinks he might be crushing his skull with his hands, and he hears the ring box clatter on the floor, and Dele's arms wrap around his middle.

 

Eric peppers kisses around Dele's mouth, on his nose, his cheeks, his brow. 'Yes,' he says between every kiss, _yes, yes, yes._

 

It's not too soon and it's not too difficult, because it's them, and they've been in love for way longer than they've been together. Dele's wanted to do this for years, and Eric's wanted to say yes for years, and they'll make it because it's _them._

 

When Eric pulls his face back, he notices the happy tears streaming down Dele's face, the smile that means all is right in the world.

 

With trembling hands, Dele reaches for the box and takes the ring out. 'Would you like to see it?' he asks, and Eric takes it in his hands.

 

He feels the weight of the thick black band on his palm, can see his face reflected on the shiny surface, his nose all big and funny looking.

 

Then he notices the writing inscribed inside of it.

 

'Meeting you,' he reads, as Dele says 'highlight of my year.'

 

Eric hands him back the ring with a smile. As he extends his hand for Dele to put the ring on, he replies.

 

'Highlight of my life.'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did NOT intend for Dele to propose.
> 
> This fic started because this idea: that Dele would give him just one ring, the Oura ring, as a promise ring and something sweet.
> 
> But as I was writing, Eric took over, and Eric wanted to be proposed to. Anyone who writes can probably understand this - how characters sometimes take over, and well, I'm glad I let Eric do that :P
> 
> PS. I had to repost the entire fic bc I accidentally added a co-creator to the previous one and I can't undo it. I'm very sad I lost the previous comments but know I took screenshots of them!


End file.
